


If Markiplier Were Your Boyfriend Pt. III

by orphan_account



Category: letsplay, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Markiplier - Freeform, markiplier imagines, markiplier preferences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would text you listings for dogs available for adoption at the Humane Society. He would come up with a backstory for each dog – an explanation as to why they found themselves at the shelter – and although some of the imagined backstories made you cry, you looked forward to those texts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Markiplier Were Your Boyfriend Pt. III

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would text you listings for dogs available for adoption at the Humane Society. He would come up with a backstory for each dog – an explanation as to why they found themselves at the shelter – and although some of the imagined backstories made you cry, you looked forward to those texts.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would wear your perfume for an entire week, not stopping until you noticed. When you asked why, he would simply respond with “ _Why not?”_

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would recite random movie quotes in the middle of a conversation. After saying the quote, he would yell, “Name that movie – 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” and after you didn’t get it right – because who could name a movie that quickly?! – he would claim himself to be the Master of Cinema. The one time you actually _did_ get it right, he pouted for a week, insisting that you had somehow cheated.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would leave you sticky notes on the mirror that said things like _poop_ and _yo booty stank_.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would ask you for advice on how to keep his hair luscious. It had lost its natural buoyancy after dyeing it so many times, and that clear stuff that you put in your hair smells _really_ good.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would tell you that you made cute faces while you were watching TV.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would gain a sudden interest in homemade candles. After researching the best techniques for a week or so, he would drag you along to buy supplies. He allowed you to pick a scent for half of the candles, while he got to pick the other. You chose lilac and he chose sandalwood. He would slave in the kitchen all day, ending up with 25 candles of each scent. When you helped him stack the finish product in the linen closet, you asked him what he could possibly do with 50 candles. He’d tell you not to question it and to leave him alone.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, you would find him talking to Chica in the early morning, asking her what she’d like to do that day.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would leave you voicemails, even though he knew how much you hated them. Most of them would start out with well-meaning intent, but would then venture off into a world that you couldn’t understand. _How did he get to talking about cucumbers?_ you’d wonder. Each voicemail would end with “Well, anyway. Call me back.”

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would say, “Welp, I’ll be in my bunk!” whenever he left a room.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, your mother would absolutely _love_ him. You’d come home to him making dinner, chatting on the phone for a good thirty minutes. When he was done talking, you would ask who it is. He would smile, saying it was your mom, grabbing your hand when you rolled your eyes with exasperation. He would tell you that it was fine, she was just having some trouble with her red sauce recipe, and that she told him to give you a kiss and a hug from her. When you mutter “ _But she’s_ my _mom_ ,” he would tutt and pat your head.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would catch you drinking wine in the shower, but he wouldn’t say anything.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, you would help him pick out the finest cutlery to host dinner parties with. He was in search of the perfect cheese knife and bamboo serving platter, not stopping until he found what he wanted. When nobody commented on how beautiful his new pieces were, he tried not to show it, but you knew that he was hurt.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would listen intently whenever you read aloud a page from the book you were currently reading.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he wouldn’t feel pressured to ask for your hand in marriage, although everyone around you was getting engaged. He would know that it was all in due time, and that he didn’t want to rush either of you into anything you weren’t ready for. He would know that your commitment issues stemmed from years of being used by untrustworthy people in your life and he didn’t take it personally. He kind of felt the same way, after all.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would order cases of Girl Scout cookies and never let you have any.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, the two of you would drive around in neighborhoods, looking for houses for sale. If they were vacant, you would peek into the windows, talking about how you would arrange the furniture in the living room, how great the space would be for entertaining, and how beautiful the backyard space was. Although you weren’t looking to move anytime soon, the two of you found endless fun in looking at houses on the market.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would encourage your addiction to looking up obscure, unsolved crimes on Wikipedia.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, your ethnic ambiguity as a couple would confuse people. Whenever bold strangers asked where your ancestors hailed from, the two of you would come up with an obscure island off the Gulf of Thailand. You’d sound so convincing – _every damn time_ – that the strangers would nod knowingly, continuing to ask about the culture of your people.

If Markiplier were your boyfriend, he would pull you closer to him in the middle of the night when you scooched away. When you whimper into his neck, he’d kiss your forehead and whisper, _I love you._


End file.
